Who is to blame?
by Dae the Shadow
Summary: Short story, twins centric. High rock, an orc, feelings of guilt... what else does the story need?
1. Chapter 1

**Who is to blame?**

**Summary**: Short story, twins centric. High rock, an orc, feelings of guilt... what else does the story need?

**Disclaimer**: I think it's rather unnecessary statement, but Arda with all it's characters belongs to Professor Tolkien. I own only those, created by me.

**Chapter1**. _The rock and an orc_

"Hey El! – Elladan called to his twin excitedly. - What takes you so long?"

"But El, you know that father would not be pleased if he finds out we came here", - answered Elrohir with quite a bit of uncertainty in his voice, skillfully climbing to the top of the hill after his brother. He really thought that it was a bad idea and would lead them to nothing but troubles.

The twins stopped at the foot of the rock, staring upward in awe. It seemed that the ledged rock was rising up higher and higher and actually had no ending at all, loosing itself somewhere in the clouds.

"That's the point, dear brother, - Elladan smiled mischievously, turning to his twin. – 'If' he finds out".

"I don't like the sound of it", - Elrohir shook his head, still doubtful. He couldn't explain why, but he had a very bad feeling about this all.

"Oh, come on! We are already here, right? So, should anyone find out, we'll get into trouble no matter what. I bet I can get to that ledge faster than you do!"

"Do not…" - Elrohir tried to hold his brother in place, but his hand grabbed only air: more resolute and reckless Elladan had already jumped up to the first ledge and started to climb up like an oversized monkey.

Sighing in defeat, Elrohir put the hand to his eyes and watched his twin's progress, his heart squeezing each time Elladan's hand would slip from an especially unreliable ledge or the loose rock would fell right from under the elf's booted foot.

"Come on, El! Get up here too!" – Elladan seemed to be completely unafraid of being that high off the ground with no more or less reliable foot- or handhold.

"Stop it, Elladan! Get down!" – Elrohir knew well enough that to argue with his brother now was both fruitless and dangerous: arguing with him, Elladan could loose much needed attention and would, Valar forbid, fall down. Yet, to see his twin's small form moving further and further away from the ground was beyond him.

"C'mon, don't be afraid! Either get up to me or wait down there. I'll rest a bit on that ledge and be down in no time".

Usually Elrohir would follow his twin with close to no doubt, yet the perspective of climbing up that particular rock made him shiver. So, the slightly younger twin stayed down on the ground, his eyes following his brother's every move, and subconsciously tried to stay directly below Elladan, as if planning to catch him should he fall.

Perhaps, that was why he was the one to spot the orc. Well, if to be precise, it was a bit later that he understood whom he saw. At that exact moment all he saw was someone's dark figure that leaned out of the ledge on which Elladan had been planning to get some rest before climbing back down. The orc, who had probably been awaken by the twins' loud conversation, was snarling at the bright sun, shaking it's ugly head, but the elf, who was moving directly to him, noticed instantly.

"El, look out!" – yelled Elrohir, watching in horror how the orc overhung from the ledge, trying to grab Elladan's hand.

Looking up, the older twin met an orc's bloodthirsty gaze and went numb, almost letting his grip slip. Forcefully shaking the temporary paralyzes off, Elladan managed to avoid the orc's grip, shifting his weight to one hand and hastily starting to climb down. However sad, the fact was that moving down was much harder than climbing up. This time he could not see properly where he was placing his foot and the risk to slip off was much higher.

The orc, seeing that it's prey was trying to escape, followed, forgetting all about the sunlight and never leaving his attempts to grab the elf. Elrohir didn't know what to do. He had no bow with him, nor would he shoot from such a position, risking to hit his own brother. But how can one just stand and watch such a scene and not go mad?

"Come on, El! – he encouraged, nervously stepping from one foot to another. – Be careful!"

Off course, Elladan didn't answer. Searching feverishly for the foothold he barely had time to duck out of the orc's reach. His twin's voice from below, however, strangely strengthened him.

Pity that it couldn't add to his luck too… For at the next second, dark dirty fingers grabbed the sleeve of his shirt firmly, sudden action throwing him off balance. Elrohir was yelling something, yet all the sounds were drowned by the fierce beating of his own blood. Elladan instinctively tried to jerk out of the foul grip and lost what was left of his balance completely.

The next few seconds turned into one small eternity. Unable to think properly from fear and panic, Elladan tried to grab onto the rocks, his fingers cut and bleeding. Yet, all he managed to do was hold on for a heartbeat or two, slipping away, his fall however slowing down somewhat. At one point or another the screaming orc flew past him, meeting with the solid ground with a sickening thud, but Elladan barely noticed it. The last thing he remembered was the sharp pain in his body as he fell into the thick bush, rolling out of it, and a pale worried face of his twin that melted in the darkness of unconsciousness.

Elrohir was ready to tear his hair. What, in the name of One, should he do? What? He knelt beside his unconscious brother, feeling for a pulse with his trembling fingers, just like his father had taught him. He was doing it just for the sake of doing something: should his brother indeed be dead, he would be the first one to know about it. Yet, it didn't mean that his brother's life was out of danger.

Well, the heartbeat and breathing are there… What next? All attempts to calm down and think clearly and logically failed, mainly because of the amount of blood that covered Elladan's cut and bruised body. Elrohir took a few deep breaths, looking like a fish that was thrown out of water. He knew that panic would solve nothing, but to calm down was almost impossibly hard. First of all, he needs to detect whether anything is broken r, better to say, what exactly is broken. Then he must try and remember at least something of what his father had taught them, for right now his memory seemed to be cleared of anything remotely useful. And then he should find the way to bring his brother home. Of that last part of his plan Elrohir tried not to think. He had absolutely no idea how to bring his twin's unconscious and hurt body back to Imladris. But, he had more pressing problems to solve right now.

Some strange noise behind him made Elrohir turn back sharply and his eyes to go wide with shock. Now, that he stared at the maimed, yet definitely not dead body of an orc, hovering over him, the younger twin remembered that the noise was there for quite some time, but he, preoccupied that he was, chose to ignore it. Oh Valar! Why hadn't he checked on the orc? Why hadn't he made sure that the creature was indeed dead? Berating himself for stupidity and inefficiency, Elrohir tried to avoid the blow of an crudely made sword, covered with some dark green substance. Hadn't Glorfindel always said that the worst possible mistake is to underestimate one's enemy?

The blade finally slashed his chest, cutting it almost perfectly horizontally. The wound wasn't deep or overly serious, yet the pain burnt through the elf's body and Elrohir fell onto the ground with a sharp cry, his hands pressing to the bleeding cut. Orc smiled wickedly, a thick stickle of dark blood running from it's mouse. It was dieing and it knew it, yet the orc would not be an orc if he hadn't try to take at least one of the two elves with him into death. But in that it failed. Before it could try and move it's sword, the orc's eyes stilled, it's chest heaved for one last time and it started to fall forward, sword first, right on top of it's latest prey. Despite the pain that pulsed through his body, Elrohir managed to roll to the side, not wishing to be slaughtered by a dead adversary. For a few minutes he just lay there, trying to battle with the pain that refused to subside and wondering, what exactly was that strange substance on the orc's blade.

XXX

"They are nowhere to be found, my lord", - one of the guards reported to his liege worriedly, bowing his head in respect.

"Damn it! – lord Elrond Peredhil of Imladris rarely allowed himself to use such words and the guards as well as a few present servants looked at him in great surprise. Elrond winced inwardly, forcefully calming himself. – Gather a few teams and search the woods for their tracks".

"Yes, my lord".

With another short, yet not disrespectful nod the guard left the room, hurrying to carry the order out. Despite the twins' frequent pranks, the majority of the elves that populated Imladris were deeply attached to them. And the guard knew for sure that the warriors would be ready to go for a search as soon as they grab their weapons and prepare their horses.

"Berenion?"

The soft call made the guard stop. Looking up he met the worried and slightly confused gaze of lord Glorfindel, whom he had passed completely unaware. Bowing to the other elf he waited patiently for a question.

"What's going on, captain?" – Glorfindel's voice was soft, yet commanding and Berenion felt that he would have answered to it no matter what.

"It seems that no one had seen young lords ever since breakfast. Lord Elrond ordered for a few teams to be gathered. We are going to search the woods".

Barely noticeable shadow fell over Glorfindel's face.

"Please, ask for my horse to be prepared as well. I'm coming with you. I just will have a word with lord Elrond, take my weapons and join you downstairs".

The warrior nodded, resuming his ran into the direction of stables. The moment he saw him, Berenion was sure that lord Glorfindel would join them. Too strong was the bond, connecting the reborn Gondolin elf with lord Elrond and his family. But for now his main task was to gather warriors as soon as possible. Shaking his head Berenion exited the house. Thanks to the twins the life in Imladris would never be totally peaceful or boring.

… TBC

Note: This story is already completed, all I need is to translate it from Russian. So, I think, I'll be posting every day or once in two days. I'd really appreciate some reviews, if it is possible: good or bad, I'll accept them.


	2. Chapter 2

**Note: **This chapter is one day delayed for I have troubles entering the site from my home computer and I needed to use my friend's, so I was forced to wait till morning. But, this chapter is a bit larger than I was originally planning, so there would probably be only one or two more. Hope you'll like it.

**Chapter 2**. _Pick up the pieces_

The twins' tracks were found rather fast, which really was mainly thanks to lord Glorfindel. No matter how skilled Elladan and Elrohir were in confusing others, their tutor knew well enough where the twins could have gone in search of adventures and where they couldn't.

"I think, we'll find them a bit further to the north, near the lone rock, - Glorfindel announced, his eyes searching his surroundings for any additional clues to where the younger elves were. – And something tells me that the twins had gotten themselves into trouble once again".

The same unpleasant foreboding was eating at the other elves too. It wasn't the first time the twins escaped from under the supposedly watchful eyes of grown-ups (most elves had actually long since lost count how many times it happened), but they had usually tried to return before a situation like this one was triggered. Namely, to avoid having almost half of the stronghold's guards searching the whole valley for them. No, something must have delayed them and that was what presaged troubles.

Dark thoughts hung over the small party like an unseen, but almost physically felt cloud and without saying a word to each other, elves urged their horses into gallop, praying that they would get to the two young elves in time.

XXX

Elrohir couldn't tell how long had he been lying on the ground. For all he knew, it could have been only a minute or a whole hour. Some clinging weariness was spreading through his whole body, paralyzing movements and fuddling thoughts. His heart was beating wildly in his chest and some annoying thought was stubbornly struggling to break through the blanket of sudden unnatural apathy that seemed to overtook him. There was something he had to do… Help someone… But whom? And how? He himself could use some help at the moment…

Elladan! The though had finally broke inside his brain and Elrohir flew up the ground in one sharp movement, altogether forgetting about both his pain and weariness. His gaze focused on the still unconscious twin who continued to lie on the ground, noting absentmindedly that his own shirt was soaked with blood too (did that matter, anyway?). The orc with it's rusted sword seemed to be a half-forgotten dream, even despite the much too real body that lied not too far away.

"Elladan!" – Elrohir fell to his knees beside his twin's body, once again feeling for the pulse. What he found made his stomach squeeze with fear: the beating was much fainter then before and way too fast and erratic. And the younger twin knew that his brother didn't have much time.

Feverishly looking around he tried to find at least something that could be of any help. The most rational thing to do was to go to Imladris for help, but the mare thought of leaving Elladan alone and injured, perhaps even dying, was too horrific to consider.

Resolutely throwing all thoughts about death away, as well as tears that were threatening to spill out, Elrohir checked the bleeding wound on his brother's cheek and temple. With an effort tearing the sleeve of his shirt away, the younger twin pressed it to the wound, trying to stop the bleeding. He might be unable to do anything useful with the broken bones on his own, but should Elladan continue to loose blood, he would be in much deeper trouble.

Elrohir had no doubt that they would be searched for and close to no doubt that they would be found. They were planning to escape for an hour or two and that time had already been coming to an end when Elladan dragged him to this accursed rock. Oh, why had they come here? Why hadn't he stopped his twin? Why hadn't forced him to go back home? The tears refused to be ignored any longer, dropping from under the tightly closed lids and onto the grayish face of Elladan. What would he do should his twin die? He didn't want to think about it, but the fear, deeper and stronger than he had ever felt, gripped his heart in a vice-like grip, squeezed his throat and seemed to tear his very soul in tiny pieces. When Elladan was beside him, all seemed to be… right, somehow, and deep down Elrohir knew that he would never last long without his brother.

Soft neighing torn Elrohir from the world of dark musings and he jerked upward, instinctively trying to stay between his brother and possible source of danger. The clattering of hoofs was getting louder and no more than a few minutes later first riders came out of the wood. Half sigh, half sob was torn out of his chest as Elrohir recognized Glorfindel's mighty figure among the arrived elves. The elf-lord had already dismounted his horse and was hurrying to the two brothers.

"Elrohir? – Glorfindel needed only half of a second to recognized the tearstained blood-soaked figure as the younger of the twins. – What happened?" – casting Elladan's body a glance full of barely suppressed fear, the elder elf shook Elrohir slightly, to catch the young one's attention.

"I… We… - suddenly, Elrohir lost all the ability to speak coherently. The presence of the other elves, much older and more experienced, had brought some relief to his overly stressed organism, depriving him of all the strength he still had left. – Elladan was climbing the rock when an orc tried to grab him. The had both fallen down".

Glorfindel looked to other warriors, nodding toward the orc's carcass. One of the elves had already knelt beside it and confirmed that the creature was dead, wincing in disgust of touching the foul body. The orc's blade was driven into the ground and it's master's body half-lied over it, as if trying to get up.

"We need to get them to the stronghold as soon as possible", - Glorfindel said darkly, gently pushing Elrohir toward one of the other elves and leaning over Elladan.

The fast scanning shoved that even though the older twin sustained breaks, cuts and bruises, miraculously nothing vital was damaged.

"His back and neck aren't damaged, - Glorfindel commented with a large amount of relief in his voice. – The ribs and left arm is broken though. So is the leg. A concussion… All in all, it could have been much worse. Berenion, we would need stretches".

The warrior nodded, moving to organize the rest of their party. He caste a brief glance toward Elrohir who hang limply in the arm's of a worried looking warrior and watched his brother's unmoving figure with wide scared eyes. Well, it seemed that for now they could only pray that all will end up well, just as so many times before.

XXX

Elrond gripped the beautifully carved railings of a balcony so tightly, that his knuckles turned white. He had already understood that something bad had happened. The ever present feeling of anxiety hadn't left him ever since this morning. Oh Eru! Why had his sons always got themselves into troubles? It would seem that in this peaceful well-protected valley, 'the last homely house', as humans called it, he shouldn't be worrying about his family's safety. Yet, the twins were constantly proving him otherwise. Ai Elbereth! Why had Celebrian been delayed from coming home once again? He didn't mind her visiting her parents in Lothlorien, but in situations like this one he was lacking her calming presence and the ability to find the right words to solve the conflict.

One of the search teams appeared from around the band somewhere in the distance and even before he was able to see details, Elrond's heart leaped in his chest. Two of the warriors were walking on foot, carrying the stretcher between them. Silently, on suddenly wobbly legs, Elrond hurried out of the building to meet the slowly progressing procession. Noticing Glorfindel's golden head among the mainly dark haired warriors, he looked at him with wordless question. What had shocked him to the very core of his being was the glassy distant look on Elrohir's face, who was sitting in front of Glorfindel, covered in the older elf's cloak.

"What happened?" – Elrond asked, unknowingly repeatening Glorfindel's own question. He was afraid even to look in the direction of the stretcher.

"We found them near the rock to the west of here", - Glorfindel dismounted, getting still unresponsive Elrohir down as well.

The younger twin turned slightly, spotting his brother's unconscious form and tried to get out of Glorfindel's grasp. Elrond frowned in concern. He saw that his younger son was not going to be of much help, not before he calms down sufficiently, at least. His heart craved to hug Elrohir, to calm him down and tell that all would be well, but helping Elladan was more urgent. Oh, how he wished for Celebrian to be here!

"As far as I understood, Elladan was climbing the rock when he ran into the orc. They both slipped off".

"What, in the name of One, were they doing there? – Elrond asked, frustrated, rubbing the bridge of his nose. – Alright, bring him inside. And Glorfindel, keep an eye on Elrohir for me, please. He shouldn't be alone".

"Of course. Go".

Elrond waited till the two warriors would carry Elladan inside the house and followed, mentally already deciding on what to do first.

Elrohir had jerked in Glorfindel's arms again, yet the elder elf was prepared for such a reaction and had managed to hold him.

"Calm down, child, you would only be in a way. Come, let me help you to your room".

At first it seemed that Elrohir hadn't heard a word of what Glorfindel told him, but then the twin slumped spinelessly in his arms and let himself be taken to the room without further protests. Elrohir's constant silence was starting to scare the elder elf, even though he knew that the shock could do many things to one's body and mind.

"I guess, we'd better clean you up, - Glorfindel said, sitting his young charge onto the bad. – I will ask for the water to be heated. Wait here".

Elrohir didn't answer. In fact, he looked as if he hadn't heard the other elf at all. His gaze was locked on the second, now empty bed that stood forlornly near the opposite wall. He wanted to just break down and cry as he did when he was younger and scared.

Glorfindel made orders considering the water and sat beside the softly sobbing Elrohir, at a loss of what to say. He had never fully understood the bond between twins. For that he would have needed to be born with a twin himself.

"Your father is the best healer in this part of Arda, - he at last said softly. – Elladan will get better. He, of course will need to spend some time in bed – broken bones can't be healed overnight, but there's no danger to his life".

Elrohir still didn't answer, hugging his knees tighter. Now that he was safe and at home and Elladan – in the skilled hands of their father, the tension that had gripped him ever after his twin's fall, subsided, swiftly turning into deep weariness… and pain. Aggravated by the ride, his wound, which he hadn't tended to in the first place, had once again started to slowly bleed. Unnatural heat, sticky and disgusting, was spreading through his body. The pain wasn't too bad, yet it gave him no peace. And still, Elrohir kept silent, something preventing him from telling Glorfindel about his wound. As if some part of him wanted to suffer along with his brother.

"The water is ready", - one of the servants poked her head into the room briefly.

"Come on, young one, let's give you a bath, shall we?" – Glorfindel smiled slightly, his memories returning to all those times he was asked to do just that by a very tired and soaked looking Elrond, whenever Celebrian was away.

"Do I really have to do it right now? Can't we wait for some news on Elladan?"

"I don't think so, - Glorfindel shook his head, sighing. – I doubt there would be any news in the next hour or so. Come on. Do you need help?"

Elrohir shook his head, swallowing tears. Forcing himself to calm down a bit he followed the other elf to the bathroom. Glorfindel gave him another concerned look and placing the clean clothes near the big towel onto the small table in one corner of the bathroom, left the room.

XXX

The sight of the warm water, scented with herbs, instantly made Elrohir feel disgustingly dirty. Getting his clothes off, he felt worse than those rangers, who sometimes visit their house, unshaven, covered in dust, with dirty greasy hair. No, he of course understood that one day could not be compared to the weekly or even monthly efforts of the rangers of the north, but the need to take a bath still was overwhelming.

Taking his shirt off, he once again felt at the pain stabbed his wound with thousands of needles and creped away from it, biting on the flesh around it. Elrohir moaned softly, not wanting Glorfindel to hear it. For the first time he felt a stab of fear. Prior to that the concern over his brother's life made him forget anything else, using the physical pain of his wound to battle against the mental one. But now, that he had actually paid it some attention, Elrohir felt great unease: he somehow doubted that this cut would heal properly on it's own.

Remembering why he was in this room, Elrohir chose to force all the disturbing thoughts to retrieve to the back of his mind and climbed into the warm scented water. Instantly someone's invisible hand reached down and spread the comfortable weariness through his body, relaxing the muscles and calming the nerves down. Incredible, how a simple act of lying in the hot water could have brought him so much pleasure! Someone's thoughtful hand had placed some athelas in the tub too and now Elrohir breathed in the refreshing aroma while washing the mud off of his body.

He couldn't tell how long he was luxuriating in the tub. The water had cooled down sufficiently, but even that sad fact failed to spoil the pleasure. He got out only when he felt how his eyes started to close (despite the fact that elves were actually sleeping with their eyes opened), the lids growing heavier and heavier with each passing moment. Somehow getting into fresh clothes, he trudged into the room, feeling how the floor threatened to go from under his feet.

"Elrohir! Is something wrong?" – Glorfindel's concerned voice for a short while managed to pushed the blanket of sleep away and Elrohir opened his eyes once again.

"Just very tired… want to sleep…"

Glorfindel supported him, half-leading, half-carrying him to the bed. Elrohir must have been really worried for his twin's health to get this weary. Well, it wasn't the least bit surprising – he himself had nearly died from horror when he first saw Elladan's broken and blood covered body.

"Should I ask for some food? –he asked, not knowing what else to say. – Or maybe you need anything else?"

"No, thank you. – Elrohir shook his head. - How's Elladan doing?"

"He'll live", - the familiar voice answered dryly from the direction of the door and Elladan felt how his sleepiness vanished in an instant, being swiftly replaced by a throbbing headache.

Elrond honestly couldn't remember when was the last time he had experienced such a rage. Perhaps, when Isildur refused to threw the One ring into the depth of Orodruin and claimed it as his own, not giving a damn for any of the elves' cautions. The fear for Elladan's life had burned into some unstoppable fury. Deep in his heart he knew that the fear that Elrohir had relieved would be enough to cover for any amount of foolishness the twins might have displayed. But at the moment, his own raw emotions had blinded him. And so, in Elrohir's room he came with the resolute intention to make his mind clear to at least one of his sons.

One look at the lord of Imladris told everyone that he was in a bad mood. But no one had expected anything else from him in the first place.

"What I want to know is what the two of you were doing in the woods away from the fortress without permission, - Elrond asked in silent voice, looking furiously at his son. – And how had you managed to almost die within no more than an hour's ride away from here?".

"We… We… - Elrohir didn't know how to explain what had happened. He couldn't force himself to tell that it was Elladan who dragged him into this misadventure. His brother was laying in the healing wing, badly hurt, so how could he put all the blame on him? No, it won't do. – It was my idea. I'm very sorry that it happened, I had never wished for Elladan to get hurt! I dared him to climb up that rock. When he got to one of the ledges, an orc spotted him and tried to grab him. They both slipped of".

Elrohir spoke softly, not looking at his father, afraid that the older elf would be able to see through his lies. Seconds ticked by, but Elrond kept silent, his face resembling an unmoving mask.

"I'm very disappointed", - he had finally said before turning around and leaving the room.

Tears started to roll down his cheeks, but Elrohir didn't seem to notice. Fear, pain and now the resentment over his father's words mixed up, squeezing his chest, and he broke, crying like he hadn't cried in many years, not caring that Glorfindel was still in the room with him, witnessing it.

The elf lord knew not what to do. Right now he too wished for Celebrian to be here. She was always able to get on with both her husband and children, no matter in what mood they were. And what could HE do?

"Elrohir?" - he sat beside the younger elf, putting a hand on the boy's shoulder.

Suddenly, the younger twin turned to him and buried his head in the elder elf's chest, sobbing loudly. Glorfindel gently removed his hand that got stuck between his chest and the crying boy and patted the twin's back. And then he froze: there was something red, covering his hand.

"Lord Glorfindel! – a concerned voice called as one of the servants entered the room. – You must see it".

The alarm in the elf's voice urged Glorfindel to comply without further questioning. He gently, yet firmly pushed Elrohir away and followed the servant into the bathroom. At the first look all was normal and in place, but… Yes, the water inside the tub was of a strange pink colour. A colour of the dissolved in the water blood…

"Get lord Elrond here, fast!" – he ordered, paling, before rushing back into the room.

…TBC


	3. Chapter 3

**Note**: I'm sorry for a delay: I was occupied at university and I still have problems with internet, but I've finished translating it at last!

_3. The after mass_

It wasn't all that hard to comb the area, Berenion thought, inwardly shaking his head in disbelief. The rock with all it's ledges and small caves had really been the only possible place within miles where orcs, known for their intolerance toward the sunlight, could find a shelter during the day. Besides that, judging by the tracks, the orc that attacked the twins had been totally alone. He either was a scout that hadn't been able to return to his group before sunrise, an outcast or the only survivor of some kind of a fight. No one could tell that now. Not that anyone cared, too. However it was, the orc was alone and it was dead, that was all that mattered for now.

The elves had already started the fire around the orc's body, not wishing to leave it to rot. Berenion eyed the bloodied ground with a frown, shivering from the thought that part of it was elven, his glance stopping on the orc's sword. Fighting with disgust, he yanked the weapon out, preparing to toss it into the fire to join it's master, but stopped himself just in time. At first he couldn't tell what caught his eye. There was nothing significant in that weapon. It was crudely made and covered in rust, mud and dried blood. Wait! The captain's thought swam. Blood? But how? The elder of the twins was not wounded. The orc tried to grab him and they fell, how did that concerned a sword? It of course was possible that the orc didn't wipe the blood after some previous kill, yet the substance looked fresh… And elven.

Slowly, the pieces of a picture fell together and Berenion could only berate himself for previous inattentiveness. When they had come here in search for the twins, the orc was laying in a pose that suggested he tried to get up, leaning on his sword. Or to kill someone… The younger of the two brothers was sitting near his twin, his shirt soaked in blood… Ai, Elbereth! How? How could they missed it? Why didn't the young lord say something?

Grabbing the orc's sword tightly, he ran straight to his horse, calling for the rest of his party to join.

XXX

The door to the twins' room opened, revealing a rather anxious lord Elrond at the exact same moment that Glorfindel lifted Elrohir's shirt, staring at the ugly, obviously infected wound.

"What hap…", - the phrase was left unfinished as Elrond saw his son's injury.

Letting out an un-lordly curse, he leaned over the younger twin, probing the wound. His touch was as light as a kiss of wind, yet Elrohir whimpered slightly. Elrond's face paled.

"They were attacked by orc, you say", - he asked Glorfindel softly, gathering his son's semiconscious body in his arms.

"Yes. We found him just a few steps away from the twins".

"And he had a sword, I presume?"

"Yes…"

"The blade was poisoned, - Elrond said dryly and turned to the door. – Bring his shirt, please. The traces of the poison could have been left on the fabric. I need to determine what it was".

"Father? – asked Elrohir's quickly fainting voice. – Forgive us… please…"

Elrond sighed, cradling his child closer to his chest. He angrily blinked the tears away. Not now! Not here! He needed to concentrate. His sons needed him.

"It all would be well, Elrohir, - he managed to say without his voice wavering. – All would be well".

But his son was already unconscious.

XXX

"How is he?" – Glorfindel asked softly, coming to stand near Elrond.

The elf-lord was sitting behind the desk, Elrohir's dirt and blood covered shirt resting on his knees.

"I don't know, - he shook his head brokenly. – The poison had already spread through his system and I still can't figure out what it is. We washed the wound with athelas, yet it only bought us some time, and not much of it, too. If I won't find the antidote soon…"

He dropped his head into his hands, unable to keep his composure. He rarely let anyone see such an open display of emotions, Glorfindel being one of the few close enough persons to be present at such times.

"I can loose them both, Glorfindel, - Elrond said brokenly. – You know how close they are… If one should die, the other would soon follow".

"Let us not think about the worst outcome for now, - Glorfindel put a hand on his friend's shoulder, a bit taken aback by the fatalistic notes in usually so composed elf's voice. – I'm sure you'll find the cure. And to that belief I would hold even if you give up".

"Thank you, my friend", - Elrond smiled. The smile, however, was too faint and too pained.

"I'm sorry for not noticing something sooner. I still can't believe we overlooked it!"

"It wasn't your fault, - Elrond shook his head. – I don't know why Elrohir said nothing of his wound, but he himself made that choice. You did what you could. You found my boys and brought them home. For that I'm eternally thankful".

Glorfindel didn't know what to reply. Somehow it all seemed to look more like a failure in his eyes than a success. He was spared the answer as Berenion stormed into the room in full speed and not bothering to knock first.

"My lords!" – the warrior exclaimed, wielding some long package around madly.

"Captain?" - Glorfindel raised a brow, a bit stunned. It wasn't that Elrond was too strict in the matters of discipline – he was actually more softer than, for example, king Thranduil was, - but to enter the room thus wasn't something that any of the Imladris elves would even consider doing. In addition, captain Berenion was one of the most well-behaved elves Glorfindel met under this roof, and he had actually witnessed the warrior's childhood.

"Forgive me for interrupting so rudely, - Berenion bowed his head, actually blushing a bit. – The orc's sword that we found near the rock was blooded and covered in what I think is poison of some sort…"

"Where's a sword?" – Elrond jumped to his feet so instantly that Berenion blinked, his lord's movements being too fast and sudden not to startle him.

The warrior hold the package out, sensing trouble and Elrond all, but yanked it out forcefully.

"Thank you, captain, - Elrond's eyes were shining bright, as he feverishly unpacked the crude blade. – I'm sorry, but I have to insist that both of you leave. Imediately. I need to detect what poison it is and the time is running out".

Berenion bowed again, hurrying to leave the room. He felt like touching something forbidden and private, observing his liege in such a state of mind. Glorfindel followed closely, not wishing to interrupt either.

"Have you found anything else, captain?" – the golden haired elf-lord asked, coming to stop few steps away from the room.

"No, sir, - Berenion shook his head. – It seems that the young lords had found the only orc that was present within miles".

"Yes, that's something they would just do", - muttered Glorfindel.

"But they will get better, right?"

The warrior's voice was sincere and Glorfindel's grasped his forearm in reassurance.

" Thanks to you, Berenion, they just might be. Let's hope that lord Elrond will make an antidote in time".

"I'm glad I could be of any help. I sincerely hope that the young lords would get better soon".

"And I believe in it. Without them it is truly to peaceful and quiet around here".

XXX

Elladan had troubles opening his eyes. That was the first thought that made it's way to his numbed brain. Finally accomplishing the frustratingly hard task, the elf blinked at the bright sunlight that was falling through the half opened curtains. The sunlight? But how? His bed was standing to the side of the window and, anyway, why were his eyes closed in the first place? Not able to remember a thing, Elladan shook his head slightly, wanting to clear his mind and shoo away the heavy sleepiness that enveloped it. His head immediately responded with a sharp blinding pain that grew and spread like a forest fire through his whole body. Groaning, the elf redoubled his efforts to remember what had happened.

"Elladan?" – someone's gentle hand appeared at his forehead and a slightly blurred face appeared in his line of vision.

"Father? What… what happened?" – Elladan managed to ask, confused.

Elrond frowned, looking intently at his son.

"Don't you remember?" – he asked gently, hoping that he hadn't misjudged the intensity of Elladan's head injury.

The elder twin tried to battle the pain and remember the recent events once again. He and Elrohir as usual decided to take a walk outside the stronghold's grounds. The rock… Yes, they went to the lone rock which they had spotted during a hunting trip with Glorfindel few days prior. And yes, he was stupid enough to try and climb it.

"I started climbing the rock, - there was no point in hiding anything from his father now, besides Elrohir had probably already told him everything that had transpired. The question was probably only meant to detect the seriousness of his head injury. – There was an orc… and we fell down. I don't think I remember anything after that".

"It's alright, - Elrond said in a calming tone of voice. – You were found and brought back to Imladris".

"Why had I climbed up there? – Elrohir asked the air surrounding him, not really understanding what his father had just told him. – And El tried to talked me out of it! Why didn't I listen? – he missed the shadow that flew across his father's face at the mentioning of a younger twin, but had almost literally jumped up with a sudden thought. – Father, where's Elrohir?"

Elrond winced, pouring some potion into the goblet and handing to his distraught son. He cursed inwardly. What was he thinking, hoping that Elladan wouldn't notice his twin's absence in the room? Hell, Sauron would sooner forget about the One ring!

"He's in the next room", - Elrond said calmly when Elladan drank the potion.

"Why… not here? – the elder twin mumbled, already feeling extremely sleepy. But even in such a state he recognized that his father was hiding something from him. Something, concerning Elrohir. – Is he alright?"

"He was wounded? – Elrond admitted, not wishing to worry the young one further, but having no heart to lie to him. – The wound wasn't serious, yet the blade was poisoned. But now all is fine. I gave him the antidote and he sleeps. Worry not, he'll be up even sooner than you are".

Elladan wanted to say more, to ask something, but the potion was working just the way it meant to and he was swiftly drifting into sleep. Sighing softly, he finally closed his eyes and surrounded.

Elrond adjusted the blanket around his son's small form, careful not aggravate the wooden splints. He sometimes felt astonished of the twins' fierce protectiveness toward each other. Oh, that reminded him one thing: he really should have a serious talk with Elrohir when he gets better. The young one's desire to protect his brother was noble, but had almost cost him his life and that was something Elrond couldn't afford to have repeated.

Making sure that Elladan sleeped comfortably, or as comfortably as a person with a good amount of it's bones broken could, Elrond exited the room. And walked right into Glorfindel, who had obviously been waiting for him in the corridor.

"All is well, I hope?" – the golden haired warrior asked, slightly disturbed by his friend's thoughtful expression. The worry, however, was a usual occurrence of late in Imladris, mainly every time the twins turned up injured.

"Yes, Elladan woke up. He asked and I had to tell him about Elrohir".

"And?" – Glorfindel prompted.

"Guess who's the one to blame according to him?" – Elrond rubbed his forehead, wearily.

"Well, it was hard to expect anything else, after all, - shrugged Glorfindel. – Oh, by the way, I have something for you, - he offered his friend a small envelop and Elrond shuddered, recognizing his wife's elegant handwriting. – The messenger came a quarter of hour prior, but I didn't want to disturb you".

Elrond waved his hand dismissively. Then his gaze returned to the letter.

"I really don't know what I want more: to know that Celebrian is on her way here, or that she's staying at Lothlorien for some more. That way she might not kill me for all this".

"I think you'll find your answers in that letter, my friend, - Glorfindel laughed softly, pushing Elrond into the direction of an empty room. – Go rest a bit until you drop asleep right here – it won't be dignified, I think".

Elrond smiled.

"Can you please ask for Elrohir to be brought into Elladan's room? His fever is almost gone and I think he'll wake up soon enough. If they are together there would be less chances that they get themselves into further troubles. Besides, that way they'll have an opportunity to figure out who of them is to blame in what happened".

Glorfindel laughed again. No, the twins would probably never come to an agreement in that particular question. Not when they both got hurt.

XXX

The sun was slowly sliding toward the horizon, casting it's rays of yellow and red all around. Two small figures were sleeping peacefully on top of two beds, brought together. Elrond smiled at the tranquil scene. Elrohir grasped his twin's good arm and buried his nose in Elladan's shoulder.

"I think it all will end up well again, - said Glorfindel, smiling too. – An hour ago they were still arguing about who was more guilty. They must have grown really tired to sleep that deep".

Elrond smiled, shaking his head.

"I know it will. Elrohir would already be able to get up in a few days. As for Elladan, he'll need to stay in bed for over a week at the very least".

"It would be worse if he was a human", - Glorfindel pointed.

"They would be dead, if they were humans, - Elrond sighed. – But what in the name of One am I going to tell Celebrian, when she comes home to this?"

"I think, she'll understand. I mean no offense or disrespect, my lord, but you wife is much more kin in solving family problems".

Elrond frowned in mock fury at his friend's words, but Glorfindel ignored that gracefully, continuing.

"By the way, if the twins are so set on traveling, you may want to think about reestablishing diplomatic relations with Mirkwood elves".

Elrond looked at his friend with an almost superstitious horror.

"Do you think, Thranduil hasn't got enough problems on his own? I'm afraid after I send the twins there, the wood elves would never even consider having any relations with our realm. That would of course happen if my sons do not perish somewhere during the trip to king Thranduil's halls".

"Well, you have time to think over the idea", - Glorfindel smiled, shrugging and both elf lords burst into laughing. – Go get some sleep, Elrond, - said the golden haired warrior after calming down a bit. – And will look over your offspring".

Elrond looked gratefully at his friend and walked in the direction of his chambers. When the twins wake up, he'll need all his strength. Oh Elbereth! Now he knew the answer to his prior question. Celebrian, where are you?

The end?

**Note**: Well, that was supposed to be the last chapter, but some of my friends suggested that I should add another one. Initially I wanted to write a sequel, featuring the twins and Legolas, but then I realized, that the twins were probably older then Legolas was and so I got stuck. I have another story mentioning Legolas' brother, who was about the same age as Elrond's sons, so, perhaps I'll put him into story. Tell me, what you think, please.


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